Stop And Stare
by Mycroffed
Summary: Clint visits Phil's grave. Phil watches him. Stuff happens.


It seemed colder as he was standing there, staring at Coulson's grave. Clint had had a terrible few weeks with that last mission with that handler that wasn't Phil. He had been determined to come and visit the graveyard since it might have been one of his last chances. He was supposed to join the Avengers again and there was always a chance that he wouldn't survive - he might not even try to continue to live.

He had his heart set on it, he was going to do this, going to talk to Coulson, tell him what was wrong. Maybe it would help. It should help. At least someone who was prepared to listen to him. Natasha was on a mission with cap, so she wasn't available and his only other friend was laying in front of him, buried six feet under the ground.

He took a deep breath as he sat down in front of Phil's grave. He ran his hands over the engraving. _Phil J. Coulson. He will be missed._ Oh how much is he missed. Clint just wanted his husband back.

"Hey, Phil." He said, his voice heavy with tears and emotion. "I... I think I'm moving all over the world, but... I don't seem to go anywhere. You're always there, always there with me and..." He ran his hand through his hair as he swallowed back the tears. "I know that everyone gets scared, Phil, but I got this feeling that ever since Loki... I'm becoming what I can't be. And I hate this, I hate that I'm running from everyone and everything, but I can't seem to shake it off.

"Nat is on a mission with Cap. I think they're in DC. I dunno what's going on exactly, and I don't really care anymore. I'm becoming this uninterested human being who ignored anything and everything that's not important to him. Phil..." He looked down at his hands, at the ring he was still wearing because he couldn't seem to say goodbye to his husband. "Phil, I miss you. I miss you so much."

He sits there for a while, in silence, just staring at the grave. When eventually he opens his mouth again, his voice is barely above a whisper. "Last mission... I was sent undercover somewhere in Europe - I already forgot the name -" A weak laugh escaped him. "- and I was sitting on top of a roof, waiting for this voice to tell me to take the shot, to tell me to do my god damn job, but it's just not coming and I'm just wondering why I can't hear nothing and I even checked the comms and my hearing aids, but I... They all worked and this voice just wouldn't come in. And then when it did, it sounded like it was you for a moment. I was frozen for a moment. After I took the shot, I couldn't move or say anything for a good hour. I just wished that someone would take over from me. I need some time off to... to deal with this, with you. I know it's been three years, but I can't do this anymore. I can't go on without you anymore. I've had enough. I'm giving up. I... I'll see you soon enough, sir."

He put down the flowers he had bought for the agent and pushed himself back on his feet. _Steady feet don't fail me now._ Clint thought as he made his way to the exit, not knowing that he was being watched.

Phil had, as soon as he had realized that his death had been faked, put a camera in his grave, to hear and see the people who would come visit his grave. The first few weeks after he had woken up, there were plenty of people there. His husband, Clint, most of all. And he always brought him something. Either it were flowers or something else, it was always something that was so typically _Clint_ that it hurt him to look at them. He wanted to go and pick them up, hold them close to his chest, but he couldn't risk being seen by anyone.

After the first few weeks, the visits grew infrequent. Clint had been cleared after the Loki incident and he was put back on active duty. He now came only when he wasn't on a mission, which was still fairly regularly.

It was three years after his death - and while he was in the middle of taking care of the aftermath of S.H.I.E.L.D. falling and then the second S.H.I.E.L.D. turning up, he got a message that Clint was at his grave again. A smile appeared on his lips as he rushed to his office to watch the live stream.

But as soon as he spotted the archer sitting there, his smile disappeared. This wasn't the strong Clint he had known. This archer was broken and absolutely desperate. He ran his finger along Clint's jaw line and imagined how it would feel to hold him in his arms again, pull him against himself and tell him that everything was going to be alright again.

When Clint told him that he missed him, he couldn't help but whisper "I miss you too, my dear husband. But I can't come back to you, not while I'm in this mess." The archer sat in silence for a while and Phil took the time to calmly go over his body, how he looked. He noticed the wounds where Clint had gotten hurt on his last mission. He noticed every new scar since he had 'died' three years ago. He noticed the lost look in the man's eyes.

And then Clint started to talk again and he let out a broken laugh - god that _hurt_ so much - and Phil could barely listen to what the archer was saying to him, to his grave, as if he really was there. When Clint said that he had given up, Phil could not help but stop and stare at the screen.

No. _No_. The Clint Barton he knew didn't just _give up_. Suddenly, Phil couldn't do it anymore, he couldn't keep it a secret from the one man he loved the most in the entire world. He couldn't watch Clint hate himself and give up, all because he was dead. He grabbed his phone and wrote a text to Clint, telling him where he was needed for his next mission.

After the text was sent, all Phil could do was hope that Clint would turn up.

Clint didn't know what to do with the text. Normally, he would be called to HQ, but the coordinates he had received were close by, as if somebody already knew that he was in the area. He sighed and decided to make it to the pickup point, only to tell whoever who needed him that he wasn't going to go with them on a mission, that he had resigned and that he wanted to be left in peace.

He was there earlier than he expected and whoever it was that needed him wasn't there yet. So he pulled out his phone and started to play a small game. And that was how he didn't notice the red car floating in mid air until it was already there.

He didn't look up as he called out. "If this is your attempt to cheer me up, Nat, then it has failed. You know that Coulson would never have let you touch Lola, let alone drive it. And if you want me to join you in there, then you must be out of your mind."

"Who says that I'm going to let you drive it, Barton?"

Clint froze when he heard that voice again. He must be going crazy since he was hearing his dead husband's voice everywhere he went. First on the mission, now here in an abandoned car park where they had never even been before. He eventually looked up at the car - and at who was sitting behind the wheel.

When he recognized the silhouette, he stopped what he was doing and stared at the agent. "Phil?" He asked, his voice so weak and breakable and he was reaching out to see if he was real because oh god what would he do if this was all just some big hallucinati-

His hand made contact with the driver of the red car and he was real. Coulson was really there. His husband was still alive. How was his husband still alive? _This can't be Phil. I have mourned him, I have identified his body. This must be some sort of trick. But he feels so real, so... so_ Phil _._

"Clint?" Phil asked softly as he felt the archer freeze with his hand on his own. "Barton, talk to me."

The familiarity of that phrase immediately got Clint out of his trance. He pulled his hand back - and tried not to think about how warm Phil's cheek had been - only to slap the agent with it.

"Three years, Phil. Three. Years." His voice was breaking as he shouted at the man, who didn't as much as flinch. Phil had been expecting it, if he was honest with himself. And he knew he deserved it.

"I know, Clint, and I'm so sorry. It wasn't supposed to be this long." He sighed and rubbed his cheek absentmindedly. "I was supposed to wake up and after a few weeks, they would come to tell you. But then you were still in because of what Loki did and... I wasn't allowed to talk to you since they were scared I would only make things worse. And then you were put back in the field . I couldn't reach you for months while you were undercover in Siberia. And then things got a bit out of hand on my end. But I swear, Clint, I was going to tell you."

"That's easy to say right now." Clint snapped at the man. "I can't believe I'm even talking to you." He was about to turn around and run away from the man that had been his husband for over three years before he had decided to fake his death. "Don't follow me, Coulson. Don't even think about it."

And after those words, Clint walked out of Coulson's life.


End file.
